


be my mistake

by gilliestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x09 Prediction, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22133626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilliestiel/pseuds/gilliestiel
Summary: If Castiel hadn’t been the first to confess, then Dean never would have had something to learn from.(Or: Purgatory helps Dean make sense of his feelings.)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 80





	be my mistake

**Author's Note:**

> for emma (@deanfreckles on twitter) ♥

_and don’t wait outside my hotel room  
just wait ‘til i give you a sign  
‘cause i get lonesome sometimes_

_save all the jokes you’re gonna make  
while i see how much drink i can take  
then be my mistake_

—

If Castiel hadn’t been the first to confess, then maybe Dean would have succeeded in pushing his feelings away. Ever since the angel first raised him from Hell, Dean knew there was something there. Something warm and safe, while also dangerous and _profound_ , which was the way Castiel always described it. The bond only grew stronger with each passing moment, and it tugged on Dean like gravity, pulling him deeper into his friend’s ever-changing orbit. New feelings blossomed here, in this little space they’d built around themselves. Their initial bond was like a lock on their souls, a reminder of this special, other-wordly connection that would never be broken, nor would it ever compare to anything else — the connection between the fallen angel and the broken, righteous man.

But then Dean started to feel other things when he looked at Castiel. They sprouted from the crevices of his heart like flowers seeking out sunlight. Lilies of devotion wanted to stick by Castiel’s side, even when he was working with Crowley and betrayed him and Sam — the first time, really, that Cas broke Dean’s heart in a way he didn’t think was possible. Sunflowers of adoration told Dean to rest his green eyes on Castiel’s blue ones, and even though things never got easier, even though this relationship was starting to fall apart, Dean didn’t care. The flowers continued to grow, curling around the bones of his ribcage and searching for the light that was Castiel, and the touch of Castiel’s hand, and the taste of Castiel’s lips — which Dean hadn’t yet kissed, but he wanted to. This much he knew.

No matter what, Dean would rather have Cas, _cursed or not_ — and that was the terrifying truth. Because who’s to say that a cursed angel is any different from a monster? Cas betrayed him, he hurt thousands of innocent people, he devastated Heaven — and still, Dean wanted him. He wanted Cas, and Cas wanted him in the same exact way. He said so himself, while his mind was still a grade A looney-bin and he didn’t have the desire to filter his thoughts. Their big battle with Dick Roman was only hours away, and they were both convinced that, yeah, they might actually _die_ today, and maybe that was all Cas needed to be able to look over at his best friend and say, “Dean, I think I’m in love with you.”

Dean just looked at him for a moment, eyes wide. Castiel’s gaze had already settled on him, deep blue and full of curiosity. He seemed as though he was pondering the words that had just slipped past his own lips, rather than looking nervous or surprised by the fact that he had just confessed his love to Dean Winchester.

Maybe Dean had seen it coming, anyway. It had always lingered in the back of his mind, what exactly this bond was, and what it really meant to the both of them. But at that moment, it wasn’t the right time. Of course Castiel wouldn’t be the one to stress over where they were or what they were doing when he finally confessed — because it was _Castiel_ , and he just loved Dean, simple as that. And maybe, for the angel, that alone was enough. But for Dean… well, Dean wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not for _this_. He had already loved and lost countless times before, and he didn’t know what he would do if he lost Cas. He would blame himself, probably. Sure, Cas had messed up big time, and he was a broken shell of the powerful angel Dean had met only a few years ago, but Dean still found a way to blame himself for everything that had happened. He projected his frustrations onto Cas, yelling at him and treating him like dirt, because that’s what his instincts told him to do. He didn’t know what else to do. And still, Castiel was in love with him.

What the hell?

_Why?_

Castiel’s eyes studied Dean’s, carefully searching for some form of response. He didn’t pressure him into saying anything, though. He just stood there, patient, all soft-eyed and messy-haired, and Dean wondered for a split second: Would it really be all that crazy? Would it really be a mistake to hold his angel’s hand, and kiss him on the lips, and tell the whole world that this bond they shared was a little something called love?

The thought was gone in a flash. Dean pushed it away, because the reality of _everything_ still hovered at the front of his mind. One: Castiel was an angel. Dean was only human. How the hell would that ever work out? Two: They were about to go into battle against the Leviathan, a species of death and destruction that Castiel brought to the earth. He made a mess, and he was willing to clean it up, but that didn’t change the fact that he had done something awful and betrayed Dean’s trust. (It also didn’t change the fact that Dean, too, had messed up — more times than he could count — but he was angry, and scared, and he didn’t know where else to direct those feelings, so he put them on Castiel.) And three: In this life, you don’t get to fall in love.

The words tumbled out of Dean’s mouth before he could stop them. “You shouldn’t be.”

Castiel cocked his head to the side. He still looked patient, even in his confusion, and Dean had no idea how to stop the swelling of his heart. He longed to hold the angel’s face in his hands and press their foreheads together, but instead, his hands curled into fists by his sides, because it didn’t matter how he felt. It didn’t matter how either of them felt.

“Why?” asked Castiel. “Dean, you’re unlike any man I’ve ever met. You’re different. You’re special. For several years now, I’ve contemplated this feeling. It’s a feeling I didn’t even know existed until I met you. But I know what it means now.”

“Cas, hang on a second. Listen.” Dean paused, eyes locked with his friend’s. He didn’t really know how to respond to all of this. What should he have said? That he was afraid? That he was pretty sure he felt the same way, but he wasn’t even sure what that meant? Everything was just too confusing, and his heart was starting to race under all this pressure, so he settled for the words, “It would be a mistake.”

Castiel blinked. Dean thought he saw a flash of hurt dart across his blue eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. The angel straightened his posture slightly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat, and he looked suddenly nervous. Uncomfortable. Dean didn’t know what else to do besides look away.

“I don’t know what this is between us, Cas,” said Dean. “But if we tried to turn it into… well, you know… I just don’t know. I don’t think we should try to force anything, man.”

“I’m not trying to force anything on you, Dean,” Castiel said sincerely. “I just wanted you to know how I feel.”

Dean wasn’t sure what to say to that. They stood there for a few moments, quiet, the air heavy between them. Castiel was the first to break the tension, removing his hands from his pockets and saying, “We should probably get going.”

He took a tentative step towards Dean, then paused. It was as if he was waiting for Dean to make the first move here, to draw them out of this awkward situation without saying anything that could set him off. Castiel was pretty awesome like that. He was always so kind and understanding, and always had Dean’s best interest at heart, despite everything. 

Dean gnawed at his lower lip, his mind still overflowing with thoughts that he desperately wanted to push away. In a perfect world, he would let himself go, take back everything he’d just said and fix it all with the words, _”You know what, Cas? You’re right.”_ Because they were about to face one of the biggest threats this world had seen since the days of Lucifer, and they might not make it out alive, so what was holding him back, exactly? He should have just thrown his inhibitions out the window and kissed Castiel, right then and there, because it was what they both wanted.

But he didn’t. Dean didn’t do any of that, because he was afraid.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

The corners of Castiel’s lips quirked into a tiny smile. Everything about the look he gave Dean was so soft and endlessly warm, and Dean was sure he felt his heart break in half.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Dean.”

Dean smiled a little. He couldn’t help himself. Cas had that effect on him.

“Thank you,” said Dean. “For telling me.”

Cas dipped his head in a little half-nod. Dean felt his insides surge with gratitude, because he had never known someone to be as understanding and patient with him as Castiel always was. Hell, the angel was probably heartbroken right now, thinking that Dean probably didn’t feel the same way (even though he _did_ ), but he was still here, smiling at Dean, making him feel completely safe and at ease. And between all the admiration Dean felt for Cas in that moment, and all the confusion about what the _hell_ just happened, he felt _happy_ , too. Because Cas was _in love_ with him. Because Dean hadn’t just made it all up in his head.

“Let’s get going,” Dean said. They had some Leviathans to fight, and he just hoped they would make it out alive today. If they lived to see tomorrow, Dean told himself he would try to fight the fear. He would give him and Castiel the chance they deserved. Maybe.

—

If Castiel hadn’t been the first to confess, then Purgatory might have done something different to Dean’s head. Maybe he would have simply cut the heads off any monster that crossed his path and jumped into that portal the first chance he got, but it was never about that. It was never about fighting his way through that place until he managed to escape. It was about finding Cas, but it was also about coming to terms with the way he felt. Every night he spent in Purgatory, under the branches of those graying trees, he thought about Castiel. He thought about that stupid trenchcoat, and his messy black hair, and the gentle touch of his hands. He thought about those eyes, deep blue like the ocean’s tide, pulling Dean in and bringing him home.

Cas was home. It was as simple as that. And maybe Dean couldn’t grasp that before, but he knew it now. It was the only thing that kept him sane as he travelled the dark terrain of monster-land. When Dean’s new daily routine became tearing monsters apart and going to sleep with blood drying on his hands, thoughts of Cas were the only thing that kept the violence from overcoming him completely. Cas was his light in the dark, just like always, reminding Dean of his humanity — and he wasn’t even _there_ for most of that year. But the thought of him was, and so was the memory of what it felt like to be near the angel, to touch him, to look at him. It was simple. It was _pure_. It was the boost Dean needed to come to terms with one thing: He was in love with Castiel. He didn’t care what else happened — he just needed to tell him that. And he needed to fucking kiss him.

Dean prayed to Cas. Every single night. It wasn’t the usual “Cas, buddy, where the hell did you go, I need you” — no, they were prayers that had him on his knees, tears building in his eyes, _begging_ to be heard. It was less of a “I need you here with me” and more of a “I need you to be okay, please be okay, Cas”, because at the core of it all, that’s all Dean wanted. Sure, Cas had messed up. He’d made a mistake. But _he_ wasn’t a mistake. He didn’t deserve to be in this place, running from monsters, from _Leviathan_ , probably fearing for his life. He deserved to be happy, and hell if Dean left here without making sure Cas had a chance at that happiness. So he stayed in Purgatory for a year, searching for the angel, _his_ angel, and praying to him. Every night.

“Cas, where are you? I don’t know if you can hear me, or if you’re even alive. I hope you’re alright. I… I miss you.”

“I don’t know how many days we’ve been down here. Probably been weeks. Months? I don’t know, I’m losing track. But I don’t care how much longer I have to stay. I’m gonna find you. I’m gonna find you even if it kills me.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about… well, us. What I said to you, Cas, after you told me… well, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a straight answer, but I want you to know that if we make it out of here… _when_ we make it out of here… I don’t want anything holdin’ us back. I want to take this chance, man. And I… I’m so bad at this, but I hope this is enough. If you can even hear me right now… I hope it’s enough.”

“Cas, I met someone. His name is Benny. He’s a vampire, but he’s got a good heart. Took me a while to trust him, obviously, but he wants to help me find you. And Cas? He knows a way out of here. So if you can hear this, and if you can do _anything_ about it, please, just try. I’m not leaving here without you.”

“I miss you. I don’t know what I would do if you… But you’re not, right? You’re okay. You just can’t hear me for some reason, or you can’t reply, because there’s some kind of angel warding or something down here, maybe. I don’t know. But you’re not dead. You can’t be. I’ll find you, Cas. I will. You can count on that.”

And Dean did find him. He found him by that stream that ran through Purgatory, and he was scruffy and dirty and a bright light shining in the darkness, yet again. Dean hugged Castiel, filled him in on their escape plan, and then they were on their way. They headed back into the cold shadow of those woods, where the tree bark was stained crimson and the creatures Dean killed were left in the bushes to decay. They put their trust in Benny, following him day and night in the direction of the portal that would get them out of here. They were almost there. They were going to get out of Purgatory.

But, as much as he hated to admit it, part of Dean wasn’t ready to leave. Not yet. That place was so pure, and it taught him not to hold anything back. He wanted to believe that when he and Cas made it back to Earth, they could turn this — whatever they had between them — into something more. He wanted to believe that with all his heart, but he wasn’t sure if he could. Not when they had a job to do in the real world, where things were expected of them and they had battles to fight on the daily. Not when Sam came first (and he would always come first). So Dean wanted to make his move while they were here, in Purgatory, where nothing else mattered. Where the purity washed him clean of his worries. He knew Castiel had heard his prayers; he knew Castiel was aware that Dean felt the same way, or he at least felt _something_. The angel didn’t say anything, of course — he had already opened up his heart to Dean, and now it was Dean’s turn.

He had to do it. He had to do it there, in Purgatory. That was the only place he’d ever have the guts to do it.

Benny had ventured up ahead for the night and was patrolling the area, leaving Dean and Cas alone in a small clearing, sitting on a rotting log between two trees. Dean looked over at his friend. Castiel appeared lost in thought, staring intently into the distance, his eyebrows drawn together. Smiling a little, Dean scooted closer to him and nudged him gently on the arm.

“Hey,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

“Your plan,” Castiel said simply. “I still think it’s very irrational.”

“Well, I don’t care what you think,” said Dean. “I’m not leaving here without you, and that’s final.”

Castiel didn’t respond. They had been over this at least a dozen times, and he should know by now that Dean wasn’t relenting. His blue eyes darted up and drifted across Dean’s face, and Dean felt something fill his heart to the brim. It was that _warmth_ he felt only when Cas looked at him like that.

But there was something else, too. It didn’t take long for Dean to realize that the _something else_ was fear. Because when Cas looked at him like that, Dean decided that the thing he wanted most in this world was for Cas to _keep_ looking at him like that. Dean wanted to wake up to those eyes, and dream about them when he fell asleep, with Cas pressed against him in the same bed. He wanted those eyes gazing down at him when they made love, and _God_ , how Dean wanted to make love to Cas. He wanted it all. And that was still so fucking scary to him. It was scary because he knew the moment he let his guard down and let Cas in, then his best friend would eventually just slip right through his fingers, and he couldn’t afford that. He couldn’t afford to lose Castiel.

Somewhere between the warmth and the fear, Dean heard something calling to him. Maybe it was just the wind — but maybe the wind was exactly what he needed to hear. There was something in the air, pure and clean. Purgatory was whispering to him, rustling the leaves of the trees that surrounded them and reminding him that none of those fears mattered. Maybe they would matter when they got back to Earth, but it didn’t matter now.

Castiel stared at him, eyes unblinking. He looked a little confused, mostly because Dean wasn’t looking away, but at the same time, there was a note of understanding in his gaze. Like he was remembering Dean’s prayers, and he knew exactly what Dean was thinking about, right at this very moment.

So Dean just went for it. There was no better time, no better place.

Words had never been his strong suit, so he wasn’t about to rely on them. Actions speak louder than words, anyway, so he leaned in and pressed his lips to Castiel’s. The kiss was soft and a little shy, and when Castiel froze up at first, all those fears came rushing back. Maybe Cas didn’t feel the same way anymore. It _had_ been a year, and Dean didn’t exactly give the most positive reaction when Cas first confessed his feelings. He hadn’t exactly rejected him, but his dumbass answer was probably enough to turn Castiel away completely. _Shit._

But then Cas was kissing him back, and lifting his hand to rest it gently on Dean’s jaw. The kiss was very short, no longer than ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity all at the same time. Cas was the first to pull away, and Dean chased his lips a little embarrassingly before his eyelids fluttered open. He saw Cas looking at him, his head slightly tilted in that adorable way of his. He saw the joy ablaze in the angel’s eyes — but there was hurt, too. Confusion.

“Dean,” said Cas. “I don’t understand.”

Dean blinked. “What do you mean? I… you said you heard my prayers.”

“Well, yes, but you weren’t exactly clear. I could tell that there were a lot of feelings you were trying to work through — I can still sense that, honestly — but you never… you never said you…” He glanced down at his feet. Now that his brains were back in order, Cas seemed to remember how to hold his tongue. Although, maybe it wasn’t about that; maybe he was just afraid of getting his heart broken. Again.

Dean reached over and took Castiel’s hand. “Do I have to say it?” he asked.

Castiel looked up at him. 

“You said it would be a mistake,” said the angel, quietly.

That _is_ what Dean had said. He regretted ever letting those words leave his mouth (and would continue to regret it for the next several years), but he couldn’t go back and change the past. What he could do was give Castiel’s hand a squeeze, and look him right in the eyes.

He should have said something else that night. He should have just told Castiel the truth — that he was in love with him, and he wanted to be with him, even after they made it out of Purgatory. But Dean was still Dean, and his heart was bruised and battered and he didn’t have the slightest idea of how to be honest about his feelings. Purgatory might have been pure, but Dean wasn’t. Dean didn’t know how any of this was supposed to work.

His eyes darted down to Castiel’s lips, then back up to his eyes, which were watching him with wonder.

“Then be my mistake,” said Dean. “Let’s just have this now, and we can forget about it when it’s over. We can go back to normal.”

It was selfish and awful. It was not at all what Dean really wanted to say, and not at all what Castiel deserved to hear. But they were sitting so close to each other, their lips only inches apart, so screw it. Maybe all Cas really wanted was _some_ kind of confirmation that Dean wanted to be kissed again, because before Dean knew it, the angel’s lips were on his once more. This kiss was deeper, a little more desperate. Castiel had both hands on Dean’s face now, and Dean’s hands latched onto the lapels of his dirty, blood-stained trenchcoat. The warmth that first filled Dean’s heart turned into something else, something white hot and passionate, like a spark that would soon catch fire. The kiss lit Dean on fire, every inch of him, and he wanted more of it. This was all he wanted, Castiel’s lips against his, their bodies so close together. It was just one kiss, but it was everything. It was pure. It was profound.

They heard a rustling in the brush and instantly pulled away from each other, breathing a little heavily. Dean turned his head, and felt his face grow warm when he saw Benny standing there in the shadows, a knowing smirk plastered to his face.

“I hate to interrupt,” said Benny. “But there’s a pack of rugaru headed this way. We need to get moving.”

Dean nodded. He spared one more glance at Castiel, at those kiss-swollen lips and deep blue eyes, before taking a deep breath and rising to his feet.

The moment came and went, just as Dean had promised it would. As life continued on, out of Purgatory and back in the real world, there would be an unspoken agreement between Dean and Cas to never speak of what happened that night. It was their little secret. It was a mistake — that’s what Dean had said, anyway. They would both just shove it to the back of their minds and move on, because this life wasn’t kind to people like them. They would never have the chance to take this love and turn it into something that mattered.

Not now, anyway.

Not until they returned to Purgatory for the second time.

—

If Castiel hadn’t been the first to confess, then Dean never would have had something to learn from. Years passed and things radically changed between the two of them, but Dean’s feelings remained the same. Even when he acted like an idiot and pushed Castiel away — _”Why does that something always seem to be you”_ — he never fell out of love. It took him awhile to figure out how to face his feelings, let alone say them out loud, but he knows he can’t wait forever. He needs to tell Cas the truth, and soon, because the horrors of this life they’re living won’t be what takes Cas away from him. No, if the angel leaves for good, it’ll be because Dean pushed him away. It’ll be because he never said all the things he really wanted to say.

They’re in Purgatory again, and Dean can’t find Cas. He’s lost in the middle of nowhere, the portal that leads back home is closing, they still haven’t found this goddamn Leviathan blossom, and his friend is nowhere to be found.

Can Dean even call Cas his friend anymore? Does he even have that right? God, he messed up so fucking bad, and he might not even be able to fix it this time. They’re running out of time — the portal might close before they find what they need, and they could be trapped here forever. Cas might already be _dead_ , for all Dean knows. They got separated when a hoard of vampires came between them, and Dean ended up at least a few yards from where he started, several heads at his feet, blood dripping from his blade. Cas was nowhere in sight.

That was hours ago, and Dean has spent most of the time since then looking for _Cas_ , not the stupid flower. Sure, they need the Leviathan blossom to kick Chuck’s ass, but Cas is… well, he’s _Cas_. Dean can’t just leave here without him. He doesn’t give a shit that they’re fighting, and that Cas barely said two words to him when they got here, or that he can’t even look him in the eye. None of that matters, because Dean still loves Cas. He does. And if something happened to him before Dean can even make things right… well, he’s not sure he would ever be able to forgive himself.

He’s not sure how much time has passed before his knees are on the ground, dead leaves crunching underneath his skin. He’s at a loss for what to do next, and he’s rapidly giving up hope. This is a lot different than the last time he was in Purgatory. Last time, he never let go of his determination to find Castiel and get them back home, even when the odds were against them. But back then, he _had_ Castiel — maybe not in the way either of them wanted, but he had him on his side. They were friends, _best_ friends, and he knew they would be okay, even when Dean acted like an idiot.

Now, though… now, Dean has messed up way too much to expect forgiveness from Cas. Maybe Cas doesn’t even want to find Dean. Maybe he stumbled across the flower and went back through the portal and is just going to leave Dean here, because God knows that’s what Dean deserves. He wouldn’t even blame him for doing that. He bends over, digging his fingernails into the soft, loose dirt. He is quite literally on his hands and knees here, surrendering everything, because he is so fucking sick of this ache in his heart. He’s terrified that Chuck is going to win, and he misses his mom, and he misses Cas, and none of this is even _fair_. Tears start to build up in his eyes, and he hangs his head in defeat.

He’s so tired.

“Cas.” The angel’s name breaks past his lips in a whimper. The tears start to roll down his face, and he can’t stop them. He doesn’t have the willpower to hold them back anymore. This is too hard — keeping his feelings locked inside, acting like he doesn’t care — and he’s sick of it. He doesn’t know how else he’s supposed to act, because his heart shattered years ago, and now it’s just a pile of broken pieces encased within his ribcage, splintering his lungs until he’s bleeding and he can’t remember how to breathe. Putting on a stone cold face was always the easiest way to mask the pain, but Castiel had always managed to look past his facade. And that _scared_ Dean, because the pain in his chest would be replaced with warmth and a feeling of peace that caused Dean to let his guard down. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, because that meant he would just get hurt, right? The people he loved would get hurt — Castiel included — if Dean let emotions get in the way of rationality. There was only one rational way to look at this life: You can’t afford attachments. You can’t be happy when you’re living a life like this.

But Dean was _wrong_ about that. Castiel understands the life. He understands the pain and suffering, yet he still knows how to love unconditionally. He’s proven that strength isn’t the act of pushing away your fears and pretending everything’s okay. Strength is knowing that it’s okay to be afraid. Strength is continuing to fight for what you love, even when it’s hard.

Dean is tired of pretending to be strong. He may act all tough and macho on the outside, but when it comes down to it, he’s weak. He’s just a broken shell of a man, and he needs Castiel to show him how to be strong again.

“Cas,” he says again, a little louder this time. “I don’t know where you are. I don’t even know if you can hear me. I just… I’m sorry, man. I’m so, so sorry.”

Dean sits back on his heels and puts his hands over his face. He streaks dirt and blood over his skin, and it mixes with the salt of his tears and stings his eyes but he doesn’t care. He’s not thinking about anything else right now except for Cas. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to steady his breathing. He’s fucking terrified, and his heart is pounding in his chest, but he needs to tell the truth. He needs to make things right.

“I’ve treated you like shit, and I know that,” says Dean. “It’s just… so much has happened, with Chuck, with… with _mom_ , but I want you to know that I don’t blame you, Cas. I never did. It was easier to tell myself that you were the problem, because that way I wouldn’t have to admit that I’m afraid. I’m _afraid_ , Cas.” His voice cracks. “I’m afraid because I don’t know what’s real and what’s not, and I want this to be real, man. You and me, we’re different. At least, I always thought we were. You always said we shared a profound bond, and you’re right, you know. I felt it, too. I still feel it. And that scares me, because if none of this is even real, then that means I’ve lost the most important thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He sucks in a breath, pausing for a moment. And then he just lets loose. He’s already cracked open the gate, and everything just flows out, like a flood breaking through a dam. There’s no stopping now.

“You remember the last time we were here?” Dean lets out a weak laugh. “That year I spent searching for you… well, let’s just say I had a lot of time to think about things. There were no distractions, nothing holding me back. I prayed to you then, and you heard me, but I never… I never told you the truth. Not all of it, anyway. And the truth is, Cas…” He takes a deep breath. “The truth is, I’m in love with you.”

He says those words and stops for a moment, as if waiting for something really horrible to happen. But nothing does. He confesses, right there, on his knees in the middle of Purgatory, and everything is okay. He doesn’t instantaneously combust or anything like that — in fact, he feels _better_. Lighter, like that was a weight he severely needed to get off his chest.

“I should’ve told you that years ago,” Dean admits. “Instead, I was a total asshole. I probably broke your heart so many times, and I’m so, so sorry. I will never stop being sorry. You have every right to be angry with me. I don’t expect you to forgive me just because I’m telling you this — honestly, I don’t deserve it — but I just need you to know this. You deserve to know, after everything. I love you, Cas. I’ve always wanted to be with you. When we… when we kissed, last time we were here, I know I made you think that it was a mistake. That’s what I kept telling myself, but it _wasn’t_ a mistake, Cas. I wanna kiss you again. I wanna be with you and make things right. And I know that’s totally out of the picture now, and that’s okay. I get it. I don’t blame you at all. I just… I love you. I’m sorry.”

The more he says those words — _I love you_ — the easier it gets. They just roll effortlessly off his tongue, like he should have been saying this all along. 

Tears are still running down his face, and Dean doesn’t even bother wiping them away. He just sits there, crying silently with his eyes shut, thinking of Castiel. He thinks of the only kiss they’ve ever shared, here in this place, back when things were different. He thinks of all the times he’s hugged Castiel or held his hand, and the spark that jolts through his veins when they touch each other. He thinks of Castiel’s little, awkward smiles, and the adorable way he tilts his head, and the endless blue of his eyes. He gives up on finding the flower, and he just cries and thinks of Castiel, until he feels a hand rest on his shoulder.

He knows who that touch belongs to before he even opens his eyes. He lifts his head, and there is Castiel, looking down at him with that ocean gaze. Cas kneels down beside him, his hand drifting down the length of Dean’s arm until it rests gently on top of his hand.

“You…” Dean doesn’t know what to say. He blinks a few times, his vision blurred by his tears. For some reason, Cas being here and looking at him with the softest gaze rather than a cold, angry one makes Dean cry even more. “You heard my prayer?”

“I can’t hear prayers anymore. My powers are failing,” Castiel reminds him. “But I happened to find you right when you started talking.”

Dean blushes, a little embarrassed that Cas was just standing there watching him the entire time he poured his heart out. That embarrassment is quickly replaced with gratitude when he realizes that Cas finally heard everything he deserved to hear. After all this time, he finally knows the truth.

“Cas,” Dean says, his voice breaking yet again. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Cas intertwines their fingers together. He uses his free hand to reach up and wipe the tears away from Dean’s face. “I heard everything, Dean. You don’t need to say it again.”

“I should have said it all years ago.”

Castiel smiles at him. “Well, you’re saying it now, and that’s what matters.”

He leans in and gently presses his lips to Dean’s. The kiss is chaste and very soft, but it’s all Dean needs. He watches Cas as the angel pulls away, their eyes never once breaking apart. His heart flutters when his best friend gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Are we okay?” Dean asks.

“Not completely,” Cas says honestly. “Not yet. But this is a start.”

Dean nods, his lips forming a small smile. He’ll take it. After everything, it’s enough.

Just then, a burst of light appears between their bodies. They both recoil, though their hands stay locked together within the bright white explosion. It doesn’t hurt either of them — it’s warm on their skin, and leaves Dean with an unusual feeling of safety and belonging. The light slowly fades, and he blinks a few times as his vision adjusts.

And then he sees it.

A flower rises from the ground between them. It’s in full bloom, and it radiates a soft glow. It’s petals are blue and green.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are always appreciated (:  
> follow me @ gilliestiel on twitter & tumblr for more soft deancas content  
> ily all <3


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